Snape Contest Entries
by narni4eva
Summary: This is a collection of Snape-based entries made for Totenveloren1's contest over on KofK.
1. Short Poetry Entry

Good afternoon, first year class;  
>Let us now at last begin.<br>If any of you expect to pass  
>You'd better start to listen in.<br>Ten points from Gryffindor to start  
>For Harry Potter's thoughtless noise<br>Thinking himself to be so smart  
>Whilst lacking all his mother's poise.<p>

Eye of newt goes in the pot  
>For watchfulness throughout the year<br>Ear of rabbit on the dot,  
>That you may remember all you hear.<br>Snakeskin sloughed and chopped up fine  
>Will help the house I represent,<br>Whilst one dark hair taken from mine  
>Will hide the past that I lament.<p>

No polyjuice to cover up;  
>To hide in plain sight this you need -<br>Drink from every single cup,  
>Pretend your motive is only greed,<br>Kneel to dark lord and then lighter,  
>Antagonise the one who lives.<br>You must hold those cards much tighter  
>And never be the one who gives.<p>

Wolfbane keeps old foes at bay  
>And nightshade hides just what you feel.<br>Careful with each word you say  
>The nightmare is what's truly real.<br>Stir in heart's blood at low boil  
>To stop the keening in your chest<br>Drink the results of all this toil  
>And, my boy, you'll be the best.<p>

Never show a moment's waver  
>Never divert from this one path.<br>Hold on to memories you savour  
>To fuel and sustain the coldest wrath.<br>Take one sip now, taste the grape  
>Added to remove thoughts so silly,<br>That she might have loved a boy called Snape.  
>Remember now your reason: Lily.<p> 


	2. General Fiction Entry

I hold the time turner in my hands, staring down dully at the fine gold surface of the chain and the turner itself, knowing that I must look like a man entranced. I stroke an index finger across the surface, almost shyly; I am afraid. I know what I am going to do and I cannot stop myself, but I am shaking. Can I really go through with it?

Two hours ago, Lily and James Potter died defending their infant son from the attack of the Dark Lord, and their names passed into legend. As simply and purely as that, a fine magic has transmuted them from living beings into bywords, into headlines, into stories. There will be no forgetting this for anyone in the wizarding world, not for a long time. Their names and the name of their son, his life, their valiant struggle to protect him, all of that will roll from the tongues of wizards for generations to come, all of that will be preserved – but something so fragile and important has been lost that I barely understand how the world continues to turn.

I need to see her, alive again. I need to see her one more time. I cannot bear to go on without doing it. But I am afraid: afraid that I will find myself returning at last to this time and place, holding the time turner in my hands, and turning it again and again until I no longer exist – turning it for the rest of time, following her through her whole life and watching every exquisite moment a hundred times. I am afraid that I will not be able to stop.

More than that. I am afraid of the fact that I am standing here in this moment, making this decision. What has come to pass may not fail to pass, no matter how many times I go back to see it. I could turn this dial back two hours and live those last moments until the end of my own life, and it would change nothing.

I am afraid of the fact that I am going to be there when Lily dies, and I am not going to save her.

With one last deep, shaking breath, I stir into action, into life once more: grasping the turner firmly, I spin it around with no more hesitation, taking me back four bittersweet hours. The scene barely changes, but then I turn and look at the house. It is whole still, like the family inside it, and nothing remains of the destruction that I turned my back on only a few moments ago.

I am in plain sight, at the side of the road, so my first act is to hide: the Potters' neighbours have a tree house in their back garden, and it is unoccupied. With little difficulty I secrete myself inside it, and it is only a moment's work to cast a simple charm that will allow me to see and hear Lily as if she were right next to me. Dear god, how I wish she was right next to me.

It is a simple family scene which greets my hungry eyes and ears. Lily holds her son, playfully bouncing him on one hip and humming nonsense sounds. Her fine red hair sways from side to side slightly as she moves, captivating me completely. I want to be there, in that scene, joining her as the final piece of the family... but that is something I gave up a long time ago at any rate, and no matter what happens – or has happened – tonight, my chance is gone.

I know that; still, I can't help feeling something wrench inside the pit of my stomach as James steps into view, taking the baby from her and planting a small kiss on her forehead. That man that I grew up hating, that man who was everything I ever hated about school and being a teenager, now has everything I wanted. If she had been with me, if she had accepted my love of the dark arts and become one of us, she would have been safe. I could have protected her, sheltered her from all of this horrible business, and when it was all over and Lord Voldemort ruled over us she would have been proud to be the wife of a Death Eater. I would not have had to betray the Dark Lord, and I would be faced with the prospect of being labelled 'traitor' for the rest of my life, as I am now... but why do I torture myself like this? There is no way of avoiding everything that has already come to pass.

I am torturing myself by even being here, in the past. The seconds fly by far too quickly, giving way to minutes and then steadily, inexorably, to hours. I watch Lily move around the house, performing simple chores, checking on a potion that is being prepared in the kitchen... it is agony to watch. Their minds are full of nothing more than the moment, what needs to be done now; they are thinking of preparing for another skirmish, perhaps, waiting for someone to call and tell them that something has happened. They do not look as if they are in the middle of a wizarding war. They look happy.

Lily smiles freely as she turns to watch James, sitting on a comfortable chair with the baby in his arms, at ease. The ring on her finger catches a glimpse of light and throws the reflection back at me as she moves towards him, as if I needed one more reminder that she is his and not mine.

All too soon I see the Death Eaters arrive. I see myself, my pathetic, squirming self, trying to convince Lord Voldemort one last time that Lily need not die. Stupid words. Waste of breath. I should have known that she would never allow the destruction of her family to take place while she stood to one side, anyway; how could James and the baby die and she still live?

Inside the house, there is suddenly something more of tension in the air. The magical activity in the area – the arrival of the Death Eaters – cannot have gone unnoticed to them, and the baby is whimpering softly as if uncomfortable. I cannot keep my eyes in one place; open-mouthed, I glance from Lily and James inside the house back to the Death Eaters, to myself, outside of the house. I was there exactly four hours ago; I know what is about to happen. I've seen it all already. Still, I cannot look away.

The Death Eaters rush the house, bursting in with wands blazing, and James quickly hands the baby over to Lily as he takes out his own wand. The serious looks on their faces are enough to tell me that they know exactly who is paying them a visit.

James begins to mutter spells as Lily does, waving the wand with her free hand, preparing barriers and wards to buy themselves a little time. They know that they will be outnumbered; perhaps they do not know yet just how overwhelmingly so, but their preparations are smart. If it had been only a small group of Death Eaters sent to deal with a couple of meddlesome wizards in the Dark Lord's way, perhaps those preparations would have been enough to make a difference... but this is full-scale war, every force Lord Voldemort can muster to wipe out this threat to his domination of the wizarding world.

The fight is short, and brutal. Though the Potters struggle valiantly, though James tries with all his might to stop them and protect his wife and child, their ferocity and sheer numbers are too much for him. Their...? What am I saying? The correct word is 'our'. I am a part of this. I am a facilitator of this awful mess, and before I can swallow the bile rising into my throat at that thought, James is dead. Lily screams, and the look on her face will haunt me for the rest of my days. She loved James, that much is clear beyond all doubt, and her heart was ripped in two as he fell to the ground. Just as mine... just as mine.

It is trying to protect the baby, in the end, that finished her. If there had been no child, perhaps James would have been able to hold them off as she fled. If the boy was older and able to cast a few charms for himself, so much the better. But a baby? A defenceless, mewling, writhing thing that must be held at all times? How can someone hope to make their escape with one hand and throw back distractions with their other if one of those hands is already full?

I watch myself, stupid, cowardly man, hiding behind my mask and robe, letting it all happen. I stand there and I do nothing. Why won't I do something? Why did I not raise a hand to help her? I can see that she is crying, that she is running out of strength! Why did I not move to save her life?

I raise a hand now, almost involuntarily, reaching out with my wand and aiming towards her, beginning to mutter protection spells under my breath. It is only when Voldemort happens to glance towards the window, towards my hiding place, that I falter. Supposing I cast a spell, what then? I already know that it will not work, that it cannot work. Grinding my teeth in frustration and sorrow I finally let my hand drop back down to my side. The only thing I can ensure by trying to help now, when it is too late, is the other Death Eaters realising that I have been turned traitor all this time. Anything I could possibly do would only make the situation worse.

When Lily falls for the second time, turning my heart into stone inside me and casting it down into the pit of my stomach, I can only stare at her lifeless face, her eyes still open and staring, before turning away and climbing down from the treehouse as quietly as I can. I do not need to see the rest; Voldemort trying to kill the baby and destroying himself instead, the confusion and panic, the flight of the Death Eaters with only myself remaining behind. The neighbours in the street calling the police, the sirens blaring down the road towards us, the confusion once again. It is all meaningless chaos. The person I came back to see is gone again.

It is too dangerous to walk out into the street now – with so many faces pressed against windows I am bound to be seen, and that will confuse the investigation even further than it already must be. I do not need a warrant out for my arrest, even if it is unlikely that I will be wandering around Muggle areas in the near future. I slip into the shadows at the back of the garden, where I cannot be seen by myself from the treehouse, and with a deep sigh take the time turner in my hands again. Even though I know that there is nothing to gain from it, even though I know that all I am doing is torturing myself, I steadily turn it over one – then twice – and lift my head again to look for a new vantage point.

(1928)


	3. Long Poetry Entry

**The Long and Dark Tale of Severus Snape**

There was a man who sought to save Lily  
>When Voldemort struck the boy who then thrived.<br>He might have kept life for her family  
>When the moment for betrayal arrived.<br>And he would have borne that trouble and strife,  
>Betrayed his dark lord and fled to the hills,<br>All for the honour of calling her 'wife';  
>But love cannot change the way the heart fills,<br>And hers was given to another man.  
>James Potter, his nemesis, always there<br>To see in early days that face so wan  
>Blush and turn away from fiery red hair.<p>

They had been friends since boyhood and girlhood  
>Were theirs, until he spoke the word - mudblood.<p>

The four young men who prowled through the school halls  
>Called out to him names that made him despair,<br>Pushed Severus up against cold stone walls,  
>Mocked every part from his shoes to his hair.<br>Lily was the one who stepped to his side  
>When all turned away from the half-blood Prince<br>Hers was then the name that he ever cried  
>For he loved her before, during, and since.<br>When she fell in love with that other man  
>It was a blow that half killed him inside;<br>One half of his heart broke when they began  
>And the other splintered the day she died.<p>

It would have been easier to bear the pain  
>Had it not been himself who condemned her name.<p>

He turned from her vision and towards work,  
>Filling his sorrow with dark deeds and Arts.<br>Voldemort was there, the darkest of murk,  
>Filling Death Eaters with thorns in their hearts.<br>He heard a deep prophecy for his Lord  
>Concerning a boy who would be his death,<br>And so it was he who drew the first sword,  
>Though unknowing, that took Lily's last breath.<br>When he found his mistake he tried to stop  
>The wheels in motion, the deadly attack.<br>By then nothing could halt fate's spinning top,  
>Even the might of Dumbledore at his back.<p>

That night he watched both his love and his lord  
>Lay down their lives, the boy's held by a cord.<p>

It was the end of the rest of his days,  
>And that was the last time he smiled at all.<br>In time he proved he had mended his ways  
>And returned at last to that fateful school hall.<br>Now he prowled those walks as a Professor,  
>Giving out House points or taking them back.<br>No one was his friend, no one his confessor,  
>And every thought inside his heart was black.<br>Then came redemption, one final chance:  
>The son of his love, needing a saviour.<br>He could take the lead in one final dance  
>And thereby win back some eternal favour.<p>

He pledged his life to save Harry Potter  
>And the flame of his soul once more grew hotter.<p>

Though he loathed the boy for his mother's eyes,  
>He protected him through dark spell attacks.<br>Though it came to some as a great surprise,  
>He made up in deed what in face he lacks.<br>With grudging demeanour and weary stride,  
>He moved on towards his very last goal:<br>To keep the boy safe hidden by his side,  
>Trying not to reveal his heart's great hole.<br>He fought on with passion, even took life  
>From the greatest wizard that ever did live,<br>All to keep Harry away from the knife  
>Until his life was the last thing he could give.<p>

He died then, a hero, the truth at last  
>Revealed to the boy who looked to the past.<p> 


	4. Humour Entry

**Single Dad**

**A/N: This is a totally AU Snape fic, in which Snape got the girl after all! I wanted it to be really light-hearted and funny, and I hit upon the idea of his life being more like a sitcom in which everything is always going wrong for him. So, enjoy!**

'Severus...? Severus, are you awake?'

The soft voice that called him out from pleasant slumber was not an unwelcome one. Severus Snape, Potions master of Hogwarts and husband to quite possibly the loveliest woman in the world, opened his eyes to meet hers with a smile.

'I am now,' he replied, reaching up to tuck a strand of Lily Snape's red hair out of her face. 'What is it, my darling?'

'Did you forget to set your alarm clock? It's the first day of term!' Lily reminded him, pointing with a stern expression towards the time displayed in red digital letters on the bedside table. 'You're going to be late if you don't hurry up!'

Snape sat up with a jerk, rubbing his sleep-blurred eyes with one hand pushing his dark hair out of his face with the other. 'Why didn't you wake me?' he demanded, throwing back the covers in order to begin the hunt for his clothes.

'I was getting Harry ready, and packing his trunks with him,' Lily scolded with a cross expression. 'You said you had finished packing last night!'

Snape scowled at the mention of the youngster, as he nearly fell over trying to pull his socks on. 'I did,' he replied, annoyed. The little brat must have unpacked it again after he had left.

His relationship with Lily's son was not as good as it could have been. Not many people could pity him for the fact that he had to put up with the kid – after all, it had been his choice eleven years ago to take Lily back after she had been forced to confess that she had cheated on him with James Potter – but young Harry was almost a carbon copy of his father, and the sight of his face reminded him every day of his wife's former unfaithfulness. It would not have been as bad were it not for the fact that James had quite obviously schooled Harry in developing an intense hatred of his step-father, along with teaching him a few techniques in winding him up.

'Just get dressed, Severus, we have to take him to the train station so that he can go to school with all the other kids,' Lily told him, storming out of the room with an expression that clearly showed she believed Harry's version of events.

Snape collapsed back down onto the side of the bed for a moment after she had gone, double-checking the time and rubbing his tired face once more. He was not even going to have time for a shower, he realised, and his hair was already a little greasy. That was exactly the kind of first impression he wanted to make on a whole year of new students. Just perfect.

Finally dressed in long, dark robes that befitted his status as a professor at the school, he rushed downstairs for breakfast only to find Lily pacing backwards and forwards whilst she talked on her mobile telephone, a strange yet handy muggle device that she had taken to using in order to keep in touch with James. With Harry spending weekends with his father up until now, it had been necessary to keep in close contact; Snape could only hope that this new era signalled the beginning of James' removal from their life.

'What do you mean, late?' Lily snapped into the receiver, pushing her hair out of her face irritably. 'James, you _can't_ - '

Snape watched her with interest as he crunched into a slice of dry toast, not bothering to add anything to it with the time constraints he was facing.

'What do you mean it's his – No, James, this is not – _Don't you hang up on me, James Potter_!' Lily continued, suddenly screeching into the phone and holding it away from her face to check the screen. From the angry, inarticulate noises she started to make, it was clear that James had done just that.

'Are you alright? I need to get going soon in order to meet the other professors,' Snape began, before Lily turned and launched the full force of her anger at him.

'Don't you dare move an inch from this house, Severus!' she insisted, tucking the phone into her pocket furiously and wagging a finger at him. 'James isn't coming, and someone is going to have to stand with Harry and be a father figure for his first day!'

Snape gaped at her for a moment. 'But – Lily – I'm supposed to meet the other heads of houses to discuss points this year, and...' he trailed off as her eyes began to light up with green fire. '... And it's clearly more important for me to be there for Harry than to fulfil my official duties, of course. I'll send an owl to Dumbledore right away.' He backpedalled hastily, going out to the back of the house and the three sleepy-looking owls who spent most of their time resting in a shed in the garden.

He wrote a quick and brief note that he hoped would excuse his absence – _AD: Sorry, crisis with Potter. Students first. Catch up on meeting later. SS_ – and attached it to the most alert-looking owl with an apologetic look. Stirring its feathers as if to imply that it had been having a very nice sleep until you showed up, thank you very much, the owl gave a tremulous croak and finally lifted to its wings.

Satisfied that his work had been temporarily taken care of, Snape wandered back to the house and braced himself for another of his wife's demands. He loved her very much, but it was true what they said about redheads – you did not want to get in their way when they were angry. He winced at remembering how he had nearly lost her once, when they were younger... How James Potter had been the one to comfort her after they argued. He suppressed that memory with a shudder of annoyance, not wanting to bring back bad memories on a day like today.

'Oh, there you are, Severus, we really must go,' Lily exclaimed as he stepped back inside the house, flapping her hands at him to continue out through the front door. 'I've put yours and Harry's things in the car already, but we're going to be late if we don't leave now.'

Snape nodded and rushed outside, not wanting to waste any time in commenting on this when he knew it would only annoy her. He reached the side of the car, hesitating with his hand over the passenger seat door handle, when he realised that Harry was already sitting in the position he had intended to claim. The boy looked up at him with a rude little smile, pushing his glasses up his nose with an air of superiority.

'There's no time for that, Sev, just get in the back, for goodness' sake!' Lily exclaimed as she hurtled into the driver's seat. Being born to muggle parents, Lily understood muggle things like cars; though his mother had owned a car, Snape himself had never seen the point in learning how to control it when he fully intended to spend his life as part of the wizarding community. Lily, however, had noted the importance of getting around without attracting attention, and so she had become the family's designated driver. Fuming at the idea of having to sit in the back like a child, Snape did as he was told, cursing the smug look on Harry Potter's face. If any of the muggle or half-blood students saw him getting out of the back of the car when they arrived, he would never live it down.

In the front of the car, Lily and Harry engaged in a quickfire dialogue, Lily giving her son a last-minute checklist of everything he was supposed to have brought and all of the things she had told him to remember for his first term at Hogwarts. Snape idly watched the motorway pass by through the window, and wondered which house the child would be in. Preferably not his own, Slytherin; he would like to see him in Hufflepuff perhaps, or Ravenclaw. Something nice and quiet that would keep him out from under his step-father's feet. For a brief moment he wondered if transferring to Beuxbatons or Durmstrang for about seven years would not have been a better idea, but he dismissed it after a moment's consideration. He knew full well that there were no vacancies in the staff – he had checked at the start of the summer - and besides, it would mean no longer being able to hop onto a broom and head home to Lily for the night whenever he wanted.

They arrived at the King's Cross station rather too quickly for his liking, and soon they were piling out of the car and putting their trunks onto luggage trolleys in order to navigate the crowds and make it to Platform 9 ¾, though not before a rather unpleasant meeting happened almost immediately.

'Severus! You're back for another term, I see,' a voice rang out as they moved towards the edge of the car park, and Snape turned to see a smirking Lucius Malfoy.

The tall, blond wizard was dressed in a sharp pinstripe suit, obviously as part of his "muggle uniform" to ensure that he did not attract attention in the muggle station, but the series of small scars on the left side of his face were enough to ensure that he did not go unnoticed by the crowd. Snape remembered with a twinge, as he always did, that night twelve years ago when he had led the charge against the Death Eaters in order to save Lily and her unborn child. Somehow, Lucius had not only survived, but managed to integrate himself back into a position of power and respect amongst the wizard community. The man really was a weasel sometimes.

'Of course I am,' Snape replied, a little annoyed at the implication of surprise in Lucius' words. 'And your son starts this year, does he not?'

'The same as yours – oh, sorry; I mean James', of course,' Lucius replied, throwing the barb in deliberately. 'It seems you've been relegated to the child seat in his honour.'

Snape threw a backwards glance at the car and groaned inwardly. So someone had seen him getting out of the back after all. Just what he needed – some extra ammunition for the Lucius Malfoys of the world.

Before he could muster up a snappy retort they were inside the station, and rushing towards the correct platform. He checked the orange letters glowing from the nearest display board and began to push their trolley a little faster. Lily had been right – they were running behind quite badly. Various students that he recognised from the school were also rushing around them, and when they arrived at the right platform they had to queue behind a good number of families.

As they waited, Lily fussed and adjusted Harry's uniform neatly, going over a few key items again to really ensure that he had not forgotten them, and teasing some stray hairs into place with the finesse that only a mother's touch could provide. Meanwhile, the Malfoys pulled up behind them, and Lily immediately turned to get the two boys acquainted.

Before they even managed to get through the door, the two boys were already getting along like a house on fire. Great news, Snape thought. Another little monster recruited into the James Potter Army against him. He went to check the time on his wrist and realised with a groan that he had left his watch behind on the bedside table, where it was now sat uselessly ticking down the seconds and informing him of nothing at all.

'I want to be in Slytherin, like my father,' the precocious young Draco Malfoy was informing Harry loudly, who guffawed in return.

'I don't. That house is no good any more, with Snivellus in charge of it,' he replied with an air of knowing.

'Harry!' Lily scolded. 'That is no way to talk about your step-father.'

'But it's true,' he answered, with an air of innocence. 'Dad told me. He said that it should be a job for the Defence Against the Dark Arts tutor.'

Of course. Remus Lupin, his old enemy, who occupied a permanent position on the staff in the very job that Snape had always wanted for himself. It would be just wonderful to find his position as head of house usurped from under him by that hound, wouldn't it? There was no time to dwell on whether or not the threat was a serious one, however, as their place in the queue had come and Lily and Harry quickly melted through the wall in front of him, hand in hand.

Left alone with the luggage trolley, Snape took a deep breath and began to propel it at full speed towards the wall, just as Lucius shouted out some kind of mocking comment at him. Turning to look, Snape's aim was off; he hit the wall next to the platform and the trolley rebounded savagely, the handle hitting him in the gut and knocking him flat on his back.

'Oh dear,' Lucius pronounced above him, with a raised eyebrow and a supercilious expression. 'The professors at Hogwarts used to be so respected. _Accio dignity_, Severus.'

After a moment of feeling sorry for himself as the Malfoys elegantly drifted through the platform, Snape heaved himself into a sitting position. A hand appeared from nowhere and he took it without thinking, allowing the person to pull him to his feet, before looking up and realising who the owner was. Just when he thought this expedition could not get any worse.

'Hi, Sniv,' James Potter said, grinning in a self-satisfied manner. 'I managed to get here on time after all. Why don't you let me handle the manual labour, hmm?'


	5. Medium Poetry Entry

When you spend your days and nights

Just prowling through the halls,

It surely cannot be long before

You're crawling up the walls.

No wonder Snape is feeling snappy

And docking points in class,

When he can't even teach the thing he wants

And the kids rebel en masse!

.

When the one you loved is dead and

She married someone other,

It is really quite impressive if

Your anguish you can smother!

Don't mock him if he wears a frown

For it could be quite worse;

At least he isn't wailing if

His words are getting terse.

.

Some people criticise him

For the way he seems so stern,

But what they do not realise

Is what from him they learn.

How to hold composure steady

And forbid feelings to show,

Even when you might feel ready

For what's held inside to blow!

.

It is easy indeed to mock this man

With his hair greasy and limp,

But rest assured that underneath

He is certainly no wimp.

He may be the strongest wizard

To ever walk these corridors,

For remaining true to a cause

And ignoring all those sores,

.

For teaching a boy with eyes that seem

So very like his mother's,

For keeping that outward facade

No matter how he suffers,

And for putting aside all his wants

For knowledge of Dark Arts

In order to make sure he keeps

Alive those purest hearts.

.

These things take strength and courage too,

And he had these in spades.

All of this he demonstrates

While just handing out grades!

Can you imagine all of this

Resting on your shoulders,

When you have to deal with kids

Like those twelve-year-olders?

.

You may have heard it said before

And there is no doubt it's true:

Teachers are the real heroes

No matter what they do.

Snape is no exception here

And in fact proves the rule –

There are only superheroes here

Teaching at Hogwarts School!

* * *

><p>AN: Had to insert the dots because I'm fed up of trying to make line breaks work they way I want them, since the uploader always destroys my formatting.


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